


Don't

by Dark_and_night



Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies)
Genre: Other, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Jason overhears you talking bad about yourself.
Relationships: Jason Voorhees/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 79





	Don't

Jason knew something was wrong when he felt a pit in his stomach. The same pit in his stomach he used to get when the kids bullied him on the playground. He couldn’t figure out why he was feeling that way. 

He looked around, trying to figure out what was making him feel so nervous. Was there an intruder? A group of them? He hadn’t heard the telltale sounds of a car. Maybe the intruders were hikers? No, he hadn’t heard anything that sounded like someone was at the lake. All he had was this bad feeling to guide him. 

“Oh my god, no way!” He heard from the other room. He heard you laughing and the weird slightly electronic sounds of your friends laughing on the computer. He didn’t understand how computers worked, but he was happy that you were happy and could still talk to your friends, even though you’d decided to live out in the middle of nowhere with him.

Everything seemed to be fine. So why did he feel so uneasy?

It wasn’t until he listened to what you were saying that Jason finally realized why he was feeling so off. What you were saying was mean, the kind of mean that people used to talk about him. But you weren’t making fun of anyone else, not Jason or any of your friends. You were saying those things about yourself. And you were laughing about it.

It filled Jason with dread. It made him mad, and it made him angry. He wanted to save you from your own mean words. He couldn’t understand why you would tear yourself down like this. He wanted to run out and grab you and make you stop, but he knew he couldn’t get in front of the computer without your friends seeing him, and that couldn’t happen.

So he waited. Minute by agonizing minute, word by agonizing word, he waited for you to end the call with your friends. The moment he heard the laptop close, he barged into the room, making you jump.

“Jason!” You yelped as he scooped you up in his arms, throwing you on the bed none too gently. He crawled over you, interlacing his fingers with yours and pinning you down, hovering just above you. “Jason?”

He sighed heavily, squeezing your hands tightly, looking you up and down. You were perfection. Every part of you. Every part of you was something at one point he had kissed or touched or loved, and he had every intention to continue kissing and touching and loving. You were so special. You couldn’t see it, but you were so, so special. The most important thing in his life. The only person he trusted aside from his mom. You were all his, and you were precious, beautiful, perfect. 

Jason rested his head on your chest, listening to the beating of your heart. He liked to think that it was really his heart that was beating in your chest, and you were just taking care of it. It was a silly thought, but he liked it nonetheless. Slipping his hands out of yours, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer while he listened to your heart. 

“Jason, honey.” You hummed, hugging him back, still having no clue what all of this was about. “I’m right here.”

I love you. He thought. I love you I love you I love you. 

How could he show it? How many ways could he show you how much he loved you for the rest of your life? How many ways could he show you how perfect you were? Well, it didn’t matter now. He did have the rest of your life to show you. And he would. Every single day. In big gestures. Small gestures. It wouldn’t matter. He’d find every single last way and show you.

He squeezed you tightly, nuzzling his face in your shirt. He wouldn’t let you go for a long time to make up for all the mean things you said about yourself. One minute for every mean thing.


End file.
